


Loose Ties

by marimoes



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Established Relationship, M/M, Rich bastards get their thrills however they can, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23395630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: Donquixote Doflamingo is a very powerful and very rich man. Sir Crocodile is also a very powerful and very rich man. The two of them are seen together more often than seems casual, leaving the media to stir up different conclusions about their involvement with each other.Is it a big business deal? A new venture? Are they lovers?  All these questions may be answered at the gala tonight.Maybe even before.
Relationships: Crocodile/Donquixote Doflamingo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134





	Loose Ties

“You know we’re not helping anything by arriving in the same car,” Crocodile says, hand curling to light a cigar. He takes one drag of it before Doflamingo jerks it out of his mouth to put it out in the tray next to him. Blowing out the breath, he narrows his eyes. “The fuck was that for?” 

“Can you not make it an hour without smoking?” Doflamingo tuts, leaning back in his seat. 

His legs cross, ankle to knee, with arms spread across the wide back. If he can, Doflamingo prefers to take limos. They’re easier on his long limbs—and the privacy is nice too. With a gentle foot, he reaches out to press against Crocodile’s knee. 

Crocodile doesn’t look down, just pushes him off with a hard hand and dusts unseen dirt off the fabric before uncrossing his legs. It is a rather expensive suit, and even if they both have the means to buy hundreds more just like it, Crocodile doesn’t have a spare in the car. The last thing he needs is the media catching wind of anything other than just a normal car ride. 

“Can you not make it an hour without being a complete ass?” Crocodile counters. 

Doflamingo grins, wide with his teeth showing like a predator, and quips, “No.” 

The next minute passes in relative silence as Doflamingo pours himself a scotch, and then as he goes to pour one for Crocodile he hesitates. Peering over his lenses, he catches the eyes of the other man and swirls the liquor gently. Crocodile shakes his head once before returning his gaze out the window. 

It’s not uncommon for him to skip a pre-event drink, which is why Doflamingo asked, but he was sure he’d take one this time. The gala they’re headed to is massive. It’s the biggest one of the year, if not decade for the city, and their invitation was both expected and a pleasant surprise. One might need a drink before heading into all that. 

Or possibly something else. 

Tossing the glass back, Doflamingo inhales the alcohol quickly and the burn feels comforting going down his throat. It numbs it, just a hair, and gives him the burst of energy he was seeking. It’ll only seep in more as the minutes pass and he’s counting on it. 

“Never knew you as someone who got nervous,” Doflamingo says, sliding onto the same section as Crocodile. He turns from looking out the window to give Doflamingo a quick up and down before returning. “Do you need something to take your mind off of it?” 

Crocodile doesn’t turn his head this time, he just simply responds, “Doffy, drop it.” 

Doflamingo’s eyebrows tweak up at the nickname. Crocodile never uses that out of a singular place, and usually he’s a lot more naked than he is right now. Usually, he’s sheet wrapped, hair mussed by a good night’s sleep and trying to wake Doflamingo up for a repeat of the night before. 

He’d be lying if it didn’t make him twitch a little beneath his silk boxers. 

Leaning in, Doflamingo tugs at Crocodile’s collar and undoes his tie just a hair before another hard hand comes for him. This one swats, but not hard enough to dissuade Doflamingo from jerking it the rest of the way undone and planting his lips against Crocodile’s neck. 

“Hey!” Crocodile hisses, but it melts into an unwilling moan the moment Doflamingo begins to suck on the spot he landed on, “ _Doffy, please_.” 

Doflamingo gives a low laugh against wet skin and moves higher, nipping at the bottom of Crocodile’s earlobe. Another hiss of a groan slips from Crocodile’s lips and is soon after followed by a gasp as a hand sweeps across the growing bulge in his pants. 

“ _Sir_ ,” Doflamingo purrs, letting his tongue dance around the outer shell of Crocodile’s ear, “you know what that name does to me when it’s coming from your lips.” 

Another stroke of Doflamingo’s hand curls around the dark fabric, and he presses the flap back to run a single finger over the zipper. Crocodile’s hand shoots out to stop him, but it stops in the air between his chest and Doflamingo. His eyes flit out the window, squinting at the buildings and another laugh floats into his ear. 

“We still have a good fifteen minutes, maybe more if I tell the driver to take a longer way. All you have to do is ask,” Doflamingo whispers and tugs at the zipper pull. It undoes two teeth before Crocodile swallows and presses the call button. Doflamingo grins and tucks a loose piece of Crocodile’s hair back before sighing, “Good call.” 

The crackle of the front seat fills the small speaker and from it comes, “Yes, sir?” 

Doflamingo laughs at the name, earning him a glare from Crocodile before he responds, “We’re concerned about the media following us directly from Mr. Donquixote’s place. Circle a block or two to throw them off. If we arrive any earlier than twenty-five minutes from now, you’re fired.” 

“Yes, sir. I won’t arrive a moment earlier,” the driver says, voice tight, “Anything else, sir?” 

Crocodile looks over to Doflamingo who is already loosening his own tie and says, “No, that will be all. Turn off the com system after this. We won’t be needing you until we arrive.” 

“Right away.” The response is barely a blip before the speaker cuts off. 

No sooner than Crocodile can turn his head to ask Doflamingo if that was good enough, lips are on his. Hungry, unyielding lips that taste like single malt scotch, tug on his own and Crocodile starts to regret turning down a drink. Dealing with Doflamingo is one thing, but in the back of a car is another thing entirely. 

They kiss, leaving no room for air that isn’t harshly pulled through their noses, and the moment Crocodile places his hands in Doflamingo’s hair it’s over. A groan trades between their lips and Doflamingo presses his tongue in the space between, licking up and across the roof of Crocodile’s mouth. His hand hadn’t moved, only stilled, but is now again tugging down on the zipper pull. Fingers wind tighter into Doflamingo’s hair, but they pull him backwards. 

“What?” Doflamingo asks, panting softly, running his tongue against his bottom lip, “What—” 

“Quit messing with my goddamn zipper,” Crocodile grumbles and pushes Doflamingo’s hand out of the way, undoing the rest of the zipper before flipping the top buttons undone. “And don’t even think about getting anything on this suit or I’ll have your ass.” 

“Promise?” Doflamingo smirks, hand pushing past the slit in Crocodile’s boxers to pull him through. He stands, fully erect and weeping, and the sight alone makes Doflamingo’s mouth water. “Don’t worry, I won’t spill a drop.” 

A final kiss is pressed into Crocodile’s lips, hot and hard before Doflamingo pulls back. His right arm loops around the back of the seat, resting against Crocodile’s shoulder while the other curls into his lap. This isn’t the best place for something like this, usually he would kneel next to the bed or couch. Hell, he’s even hung against the edge of the pool while Crocodile sat with his feet barely in. 

All of those offering a lot more comfort than the backseat of a limousine

When Doflamingo sinks down, taking Crocodile wholly into his mouth, he does so painstakingly slow. At least, that’s what Crocodile would describe it as while his arm reaches out to clutch the door. The other is still wrapped around Doflamingo’s shoulder, fingers again tightening in his hair. 

“I didn’t ask for enough time,” Crocodile groans, lips sticking dryly together, and Doflamingo hums around him. The vibrations cause a similar effect in Crocodile’s chest as he moans, low and unwilling. “You’re going to be the death of me with that mouth of yours.” 

Doflamingo sucks at the base for a moment before pulling all the way up, leaving his tip with a pop. A smirk draws across his face as he peers up over his lenses to meet Crocodile’s half lidded eyes. “I’m sure I won’t say anything that could get you killed.” 

Before he undoubtedly gets pushed back down, Doflamingo ducks his head and continues. His tongue lying flat against the side until he gets back to the base, teeth grazing the other side. When he pulls his cheeks in, he doesn’t move upwards like he usually does. Instead he stays, tip rubbing against the back of his throat and lets his tongue tease the soft skin of Crocodile’s underneath. 

A hiss of air is sucked in, and Doflamingo smiles around him. 

“Please,” Crocodile sighs, head falling back against the seat, “We don’t have time for this. Hurry, Doffy.” 

Doflamingo pulls up off of him, lips popping off his tip and he slowly drags his tongue across the slit. He can feel Crocodile start to shake beneath him, only a quiver, but he knows that it’s taking everything in the man not to slam Doflamingo’s head back down. How he would love to have enough time to taunt Crocodile to the point where he holds his head in place, forcing him down as he fucks his mouth without restraint. 

But this isn’t the place, and they don’t have the time. 

“Sorry, sir,” Doflamingo hums, pressing a kiss on his tip. He smiles, running his tongue against his upper lip before continuing, “Right away.”

Crocodile drops his head against the back of the seat with a huff of irritation, but it quickly becomes a position of necessity when Doflamingo wraps back around him. He’s sucking harder than before, faster as he works up and down. 

The gold of his hair bobbing up and down, paired with the pinch of his hand on Crocodile’s right shoulder is just enough to make him pant out to the ceiling. Doflamingo’s free hand teases the slit of the boxers open a little more, just enough for him to slide two fingers in and rub slow circles beneath the base of Crocodile’s shaft. Fast and slow, wet and hot, the abuse continues, and Crocodile can feel himself begin to tense up. 

He’s close, so very close. With eyes fluttering, he tries to open them wider but can’t seem to manage it in the slightest. All he can do is struggle to breathe, and feel his fingers shake against Doflamingo’s scalp. 

“Doffy, D-Doffy.” The name comes from Crocodile’s mouth low, almost whining, and he can feel Doflamingo grin around him. He’s giving him too much pleasure by sinking this low—letting him know just how badly he’s getting to him—but he can’t help it. All he can do is pray to the name of the man that has him seeing heaven in the back of a limousine.

Doflamingo pulls in his cheeks harder, forces himself deeper to kiss the base of Crocodile’s shaft and he rubs against the back of his throat. It’s the last straw that Crocodile can take, coming without any other warning. His hand slams against the door frame, fingers clutching any grip that they can find, and a low moan strains from Crocodile’s throat. 

Keeping his word, Doflamingo swallows with ease. Mouth not leaving the warm skin, he continues to suck and lick against him. It’s softer now, but any amount of sensation is still too much, and Crocodile feels another unwilling moan hum from his chest. 

“Stop, stop, you’re going to—” Crocodile starts, but wheezes for a moment while tugging Doflamingo’s head off of him, “I have to walk at this event. Save it.” 

“Save it?” Doflamingo asks, tongue flicking out to clean beneath his lip, “You mean I _do_ get to see you afterwards tonight? I thought we agreed arriving together was bad enough and now you want to leave on my arm as well?” 

Crocodile’s shaking hands tuck everything back into place, rezipping and buttoning his pants, while Doflamingo works on straightening himself back up. He’s tightening his tie back, glasses pushed atop his head so that he can use the reflection of the window as a makeshift mirror, and Crocodile feels it. That heavy feeling in his chest that he gets every other time the two of them are together. It’s become more frequent nowadays, leaving him to miss the times where they were barely friends and only used the other for a quick release of stress. 

He isn’t sure when things changed, but regardless, Doflamingo can never know. 

“I’ll leave an hour earlier than you in a town car. You’ll take this one and have him drive the wrong way for at least fifteen minutes first,” Crocodile explains, now readjusting his own tie. He wishes his cravat was more appropriate for the event, without it he nearly feels naked. A sensation only perpetuated by the lust filled look in Doflamingo’s eyes. 

Doflamingo scoots closer again, no more than an inch from Crocodile’s face and says, “And then?” 

They meet eyes, a battle of desire he’s already relented against the excitement of Doflamingo’s, and he presses his lips into a tight line. A kiss is placed playfully against his cheek before another is pushed against Crocodile’s lips, and Doflamingo licks his lower lip gently. 

“Then,” Crocodile continues, muttering against Doflamingo’s lips that again twist into a grin, “you’re going to finish what you started here.” 

“How am I going to do that?” Doflamingo whispers back, hand reaching up to press a stray piece of hair back into place on Crocodile’s right side, “Tell me, sir, what is it you want me to do?” 

Crocodile focuses harder, and as he feels the car start to slow down; he dare not look out the window to see that they’ve arrived. All he can do is stare at the call of the void that hangs in front of his face, and question how exactly he’d like to die. A soft thud of the driver’s door echoes through the cab and Doflamingo lifts his eyebrows. 

“What you’re going to do is fuck me until this suit is only threads,” Crocodile says and pulls Doflamingo’s glasses down back over his eyes. Doflamingo leans back, scooting to the other section where he was before with a low laugh and barely gets settled before the car door opens. “Agreed?” 

The driver stands, hand out to direct Crocodile from the car, but he sits still waiting for an answer. Lights flash into the vehicle, cameras pouring from every direction, and Crocodile can hear the driver start to argue with them. None of it matters, not until Doflamingo responds. 

“Agreed.” Doflamingo purrs and holds a hand up towards the door, “We’d better go, no need to stir up anything else. I hope you enjoy your night.” 

Crocodile slides from the vehicle and adjusts his suit, pulling his collar up a little higher before starting to walk through the sea of lights. Regardless of the crowds and the endless questioning being shouted at him from every angle; he will enjoy his night. For there is business to do and important people to speak to here, so he’d be remiss to waste it. 

So, he’ll hold his head high while Doflamingo no doubt gives him looks throughout the event and pretend his neck doesn’t burn. He’ll pretend he doesn’t want to steal glances as he hears the man’s laugh ring out from the other side of the hall. All because he knows where his night will eventually end. 

And when the morning comes the next day, warm and painting over his bedroom, Crocodile knows he was right. He feels good, sore, but good until Doflamingo rolls over to show him the headline on his phone. It’s accompanied by a zoomed in picture of his reddened neck and crooked tie, accusation clear as the day out his window. 

But even then, amidst the decision whether or not to stop fighting their involvement, Crocodile admits it. He did enjoy his night, and he’d like to have one like it again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Am I smitten? We don't know. 
> 
> Twitter: @__moes__  
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle


End file.
